You will often have it said to you, when smarting under a
disappointment, "Never mind! it is all for the best!" I dare say you
are sometimes inclined to doubt the truth of this maxim; I remember
when I was a child I did, but I have found out in life, that it does
very often prove true. And if you like, I will tell you one instance
in which this was the case.
In the course of one of my rambles in Spain it happened one day that
I was tempted by an old longing to make acquaintance with one of her
most out-of-the-way and primitive villages, to separate from my party
at the comfortable hotel at C---- and make my way with only one young
companion to a place some five miles west, called Guadaxox, a name
which I dare say in your longest geography lesson you have never been
called on to pronounce; and you would find it no easy matter to do so,
unless I wrote it for you thus: Guadakquoth.
Five miles' walk through the clear bright air of Spain, and the fresh
spring breeze charged with all the perfume from the mountains, is a
pleasant prospect enough; and as I can usually adapt myself to any
quarters which may fall to my lot on a march, I had little fear of
not being sufficiently rested to perform the return journey easily
before sunset. My companion was a hearty lad of fourteen, who had
joined us for his Easter vacation from Eton, and the prospect proposed
even less difficulties to him.
I think you would be amused with our little adventures by the way
through a country in which every outline of foreground or horizon,
every tree and plant, every beast or fowl, every implement of
husbandry, every article of dress of the people, every individual
thing you meet, will probably prove new to an English eye. But I must
not dwell on these things now. I will only tell you that we had such
a bright and pleasant day as I have hardly ever known out of Spain;
that we found so much to sketch and so much to interest us altogether,
that we never noticed how the time passed, nor how the wind from the
mountains had covered the fair sky with angry clouds. It was only
when the first great drops of the storm patted us on the shoulder
that we realized the extent of our difficulty. We looked at the
banks of clouds and then at each other, for we each felt there was
little chance of holding up that evening, and if it did, some of the
mountain paths we had to traverse would be rendered too slippery by
the torrent to be pleasant, not to say safe, for our lowland-bred feet.
It was a contretemps which disconcerted us not a little; but we turned
with what courage remained to see after a shelter for the night. Time
forbids me to describe the only venta, or inn, the place boasted,
it will suffice to say it wanted for every comfort. It only expected
to have hardy peasants to house who would not object to the earthen
floor or the companionship of pigs and fowls in their slumbers. My Eton
companion thought it rather manly to roll himself up in his great coat
and compose himself to sleep on a board sloped from a low bench on to
the floor. For myself I preferred sitting up, and established myself
bravely in a chair, having previously taken the precaution to replenish
the lamp. The first stage of weariness was just coming on when the
door, which there was no means of locking, was thrown rudely open, and
a couple of rough carters were ushered in to take up their quarters in
the same apartment. I remonstrated at the intrusion without success,
and something of an altercation ensued, in the midst of which another
door, which I had not before noticed, was opened by a lady in black,
who beckoned me into her room. I followed her, glad of an escape, but
with a misgiving, lest I had not mended the matter. At first sight I
had felt inclined to set her down as "an old hag;" but as she talked
I saw intelligent benevolence in her dark eye, and traced remnants of
early beauty in her shrivelled countenance. We were soon friends. She
was travelling from place to place with her daughter, who supported
them both by her exertions on the stage; she had gone on with friends
to another village that evening, so her bed was free; it did not look
inviting, and I excused myself as delicately as I could. She had the
tact not to press the matter; and we continued sitting up, talking
about the customs and legends of the people, a matter in which the
old lady was well versed, and which had always had a special charm
for me. She was delighted to have some one who would listen to her
"long yarn;" and I was delighted to have found a source at which to
satisfy some of my curiosity about Spanish Traditions.
The next day, as I sat in the hotel at C---- writing down the substance
of what she had told me, and which I have embodied in the following
collection of tales, I could not help saying to myself, "Well, it was
all for the best. I thought that storm a great annoyance yesterday,
but it has procured me an acquaintance with the very subjects after
which I had had many fruitless researches before."
The store thus begun has been added to since in many various ways
which I will not detain you by narrating, as I sincerely hope you
are anxious to plunge into them, and still more that they will answer
your expectations and entertain you as they did me.
I dare say they will seem to you at first very like other stories
you have read, but if you follow them attentively you will trace many
singular national characteristics. One in particular to which I would
call your attention is the spirit of humour of which the Spanish and
particularly the Andalusian people are so fond. This will sometimes
lead them to what we should be inclined to consider irreverence; but
it is nothing of the sort with them; and if you find them speaking
with playfulness on a sacred subject [2], it is because such a vein
of faith underlies all they say that the notion of being irreverent
never occurs to them.